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JACKSON
Let me text the guys. They usually go to the Binn. We could get a group together—might be fun.
I need to tell her, not make plans. Damn it, I want to see her.
JACKSON
Hey, man, are you guys getting together tomorrow night?
TYLER
The usual. The BINN. You in?
Solia’s friend Mia is in town for the weekend and she asked if we want to hang out.
My man Jackson, coming in clutch. Sweet. See you around eight?
Sounds good.
I text Solia to confirm the time.
SOLIA
Sounds great!
Now I just have to get through the next twenty-six hours. But who’s counting?
* * *
Thursday night around quarter to eight, I pull into the Binn. My tires kick up clouds of dust as they spin through the parking lot. The place is tight, but I find a spot toward the back. Must be vacationers mixed in with the locals for this kind of crowd.
Walking toward the bar, I’m glad I chose jeans and a hoodie. It’s cool for a summer night, the temperature hovering a little under fifty degrees. Gravel crunches behind me, and I turn to see Greg. I reach for the door and hold it open.
“What’s up, stranger?” Greg says, giving me a friendly slap on the back. I’m glad to see him in a place other than the store.
“Not much, stopping in for a beer.” Greg walks to the bar where he joins a group of guys I’ve seen around town. I’ll make a point to check in with him later. The country store is as busy as the orchard, if not busier, this time of year. I never see anyone outside of work these days.
The blackboard easel next to the door lists the specials, and I learn it’s Ladies’ Night, featuring musical guest Brice Hawkins. I’m not sure when the Binn started having theme nights, but I guess if it means keeping more business in town, then why not?
Cindy has the music turned up a little louder and the lights a little lower than usual. Each table has a tea light candle in a mason jar. Cindy, lover of anything twinkly, is still at it. A few more sparkly strings have been added to the overhead beam, emitting a warm stream of light from above.
The guys are at a round-top in the far left corner. I wave hello to Cindy and give a quick nod to friends sitting at the bar. Before I make it to the guys, I stop by to check out the rickety entertainment platform on the opposite side of the room. Three guitars lean on their stands in front of the platform, and a folding table is pushed to the side with stickers containing Brice’s logo and social media details. I glance through the information, and a man who I assume is Brice walks toward me.
“Hey, man, thanks for coming out tonight.”
“Oh yeah, sure. Are you from around here?” I don’t recognize his name.
“Well, I’ve been here once a month for—let me think—the past six months?”
This shouldn’t shock me because it’s me who hasn’t been around. “Oh, cool. Good luck tonight. You’ve got a great crowd.”
“Sure thing. Enjoy.” Brice tilts his hat and turns to finish setting up his stage. I grab one of his stickers and figure if this guy is any good, I’ll search him later. I’m always into supporting local musicians.
“Do my eyes deceive me, or is Jackson out on the town again, and this time he’s bringing the girls.” Tyler’s comment is anything but quiet and receives a few cheers from the regulars at the bar. Several of them raise a glass to me. “Cheers!”
Cindy appears by my side sporting her bar apron and holding the drink I have yet to order. “Here you go, Jackson. You’re going to need it with this crew.” She places the pint on the table, winks, tosses her ponytail behind her, and heads back toward the bar.
“Cheers to another hometown night with our boy Jackson.” Jay lifts his pint for a toast.
